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He clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder. “No problem. We’ve all got our shit.”

Wasn’t that the truth?

We crossed the courtyard to Miguel, who’d been furtively stealing glances at us while we talked. He ducked his head, pretending not to care when we approached.

“Would you like to meet Otis?” I asked.

He shrugged.

Miguel had been fighting depression, so I wasn’t surprised he was resisting the doggo’s charms, even if I’d hoped to see more of a spark of life in him.

“Otis could use some attention,” Axel said, crouching down to look Miguel in the eye. “He lost his owner, and he’s still a little sad.”

Miguel eyed Otis. “He won’t bite?”

“Nope. He’s sweet as can be.”

Miguel extended a hand to stroke his ears. “Poor boy. Life is full of pain, huh?”

Axel and I exchanged a look. Axel placed Otis fully in Miguel’s lap and backed away a few steps. I went with him.

“This is where Otis does his real magic,” Axel murmured. “He’ll get that man to talk about things no one else can.”

I nodded. “How often can you bring him?”

“I could spare an hour or two once a week. I don’t want to overwork him. He’s still adjusting to his new life, too.”

“We should have thought of this sooner,” I said. “My sister’s dog was a huge comfort as she adjusted to life in a wheelchair. There were days she’d hold him and cry, and he’d never leave her side.”

“That’s a good dog,” he said. “I’m betting you didn’t leave her side either, though.”

“I did my best to be there for her. For whatever she needed.”

“Sounds like you’re a good brother,” he said, lips hitching up in the corner. “Nobody else will be as loyal.”

“Are you talking about her dog or her brother?”

He chuckled. “Both, if she’s lucky.”

Was Dakota lucky to have me? I wasn’t so sure about that. But Axel made one thing clear to me. Whatever my sister’s choices, I had to be like Otis and Pogo. I had to stick by her side and support her however I could.

However uncomfortable it might be for me.

CHAPTER 13

JOYRIDE

The neighborhood Dakota directed me to was behind the community college in an older section of town. The houses were nice but modest bungalows with wide porches and tidy lawns.

The Mendez home, where New Horizons was working, was easy to spot. There was a white pickup emblazoned with Scott Construction on the side, a panel van with the logo of a local plumber, Pipe Dreams, and a handful of vehicles that must belong to volunteers. I found a spot across the street and parked.

I sat there as the engine cooled—tick, tick, tick—nerves making my gut flutter. Dakota had been nothing but gracious at our lunch meeting. Kinder than I ever expected. I wanted to make amends, but should I really be intruding further into her life?

A tall man with dark brown hair and a healthy amount of scruff came out onto the porch. Nice eye candy. He turned to Dakota, tapping a clipboard while he talked to her.

If I sat here any longer, I’d miss my chance to do any good by coming. I sucked in a breath and threw open the door.

Dakota waved as I crossed the street. “Hey, Joey! Let me introduce you to some people so we can get you started.”